He didn’t even think.
He changed direction and skated straight for her.
The ice was chaos—teammates shouting, cameras surging, fans screaming—but when he reached her, none of it existed. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her clean off the ice, spinning them both in a dizzy circle that felt like flying.
She laughed, breathless and bright, and when he set her down, his mouth was on hers instantly in a hot, hungry, overflowing with joy kiss he couldn’t contain. The kiss tasted like sweat and victory and relief and everything he’d been holding back all season.
She threaded her fingers into his damp hair, hands warm against his skin, then dragged them down to his jaw, rubbing at his half-grown playoff beard with a teasing wrinkle of her nose.
“You can finally shave this now,” she said.
He grinned, chest still heaving, adrenaline roaring through him. “Not until I get my official picture with the Cup.”
She kissed him again anyway.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, like the words were just for him.
“Boss,” he murmured back, voice rough and low. “We did it. I did it. And you’re here.”
Her eyes shone, tears slipping free as she smiled at him. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
The crowd surged again, another wave of sound, another announcement echoing through the arena, but Murphy barely heard it. With Hillary’s hands framing his face and her lips still tingling against his, the world narrowed down to this single, perfect moment.
This was the win.
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR AND ONE MONTH LATER
Murphy
The sharp scrape of skates on fresh ice echoed through the rink, underscored by laughter and the kind of chatter that only came from kids loving every second of being out there. Murphy couldn’t stop grinning as he kept the puck sliding across the ice, stick to stick, between him and Patrick.
“You ready?” Murphy teased as Patrick leaned into his stride, his face lit with concentration.
“Born ready,” Patrick shot back, flicking the puck back to him with a proud little grin.
The sight never got old. Not when he thought about everything his brother had been through. Not when he thought about the night he almost lost him. Today wasn’t about that, though. Today was about joy. About giving back. About skating with the Special Olympics team and remembering why he loved hockey in the first place.
Murphy glanced toward the stands, his heart pulling at the sight of Hillary sitting with his mom. Finn was at their feet,tail thumping happily every time Hillary leaned down to scratch behind his ears. That image—the two of them together, laughing at something his mom said, with Finn in the middle—hit him harder than any championship win ever could.
He skated another loop before calling out to Patrick, dropping his voice when they drew closer. “Hey, don’t tell anyone, but . . . I’m going to propose to her tonight.”
Patrick’s eyes went wide, a gleam of excitement sparking instantly. “No way!”
Murphy laughed, nudging the puck toward him again. “Yep.”
Patrick whooped so loud it made a couple of kids turn their heads, and Murphy couldn’t help it—he laughed harder, the sound bubbling out of him until his cheeks hurt. This was it. The life he’d always wanted. The one he hadn’t been sure he deserved until Hillary came along and proved he did.
The night air was cool,the kind that carried just enough bite to keep them close as they strolled down the winding path near his parents’ house. A few streetlamps glowed warm in the dark, painting golden circles over the walkway. Finn trotted happily ahead, leash slack between Murphy’s hand and his collar.
Murphy stole a glance at Hillary beside him, her auburn hair catching in the light, her hand brushing his every so often. His heart hammered so hard it was almost funny. He’d won a Stanley Cup, scored breakaway goals in front of packed arenas, and none of it compared to the nerves thrumming through him now.
He stopped walking. “Hil,” he said softly.
She turned, eyebrows lifting in question. “What’s up, Rookie?”
He smiled, shaking his head. “You know . . . I think I’ve loved you since that night at the gala, when you hit on me.”
